There’s no doubt in my mind that if Logic hadn’t become famous as a rapper, he would have made it as a filmmaker. The Maryland emcee fills his songs with cinematic instrumentation and esoteric references to Christopher Nolan and Quentin Tarantino; his 2014 debut, Under Pressure, functions like his state of concept, announcing his intentions to the world. His latest, The Incredible True Story, might just be this year’s most ambitious, cinematic album.
From spacey opener “Contact” on, Logic intercuts his album — a lyrically solid, musically amazing piece of hip-hop — with the futuristic sci-fi story of two astronauts (one of which is played by former Cowboy Bebop star Steve Blum) searching for a new habitable planet, aptly named “Paradise.” Most rap albums are content with a couple spoken word skits and rehashing the same slice of hood life over and over. Logic could have done that sure (his childhood was reputedly rough), but instead he tells a compelling sci-fi epic on scale with Nolan’s Interstellar.
As for the actual songs, Logic takes his time to get going. The Incredible True Story is a slow burn, like the films he models it after. It’s not until after “Intermission” that Logic actually catches fire, particularly on the one-two punch of “City of Stars,” the album’s highlight, and “Stainless.” On “City of Stars,” Logic both bites the hand that feeds by ribbing his label, Def Jam, for under-shipping him, and calls out the hypocrisy of his genre. “People that like Pac hope that Drake get shot / ‘cause he raps about money and bitches, he rhymes. “For heaven’s sake / Pac did the same thing, just on a drum break.”
As for his backing tracks, Logic interpolates some of his contemporaries’ signature sounds. Here, there’s a smattering of Kanye’s “chipmunk soul,” a touch of Chance the Rapper’s tripped-out jamming and some of Childish Gambino’s sing-song rhyming. While Logic clearly emulates his rap heroes, on The Incredible True Story he imitates none more obviously than moviemaker Quentin Tarantino. Where the director builds his films on homage to other filmmakers, Logic cribs others’ sounds. But as often happens with Tarantino’s films, it works here better than it should have.
It’s beyond me why Logic isn’t the biggest rapper on the planet. Perhaps, it’s because he doesn’t bother with the posturing that the genre’s top tier obsesses over; he’s comfortable being an introverted cinephile, settled in his own geekiness. But nothing is more powerful in music than genuineness, and Logic’s got that to spare. The Incredible True Story isn’t just a contender for album of the year; it might be the film of the year, too.